Damned right. And if he didn’t let go of my arm, I would never learn. “Where’s EG?” I demanded. I could take Blackwell out in an eyeblink, but I had to know where EG was first.
“EG?” he asked, jarred from whatever tirade had formed on his tongue.
“EG, my sister, Elizabeth Georgiana.” Did he think I was dense? “Isn’t that what this is all about? You want us gone, so you took her? The tickets are at the airport. You know we don’t have the money, but if you’ll just bring her safely to me, we’re out of here.”
“I was talking about Graham…” A look of horror twisted his Botoxed face. “Your sister is missing?”
“Exactly. If you don’t know where she is, then I suggest you get out of my way.” But what if I was wrong? What if Blackwell really had our best interests in his narrow little mind? “What do you know about Graham?” I was in such a panic that I could suspect anyone.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. He’s paranoid. Along with the injuries he sustained trying to save his wife in the Pentagon crash after 9/ll, he suffered post-traumatic stress. He saw conspiracies around every corner. After he accused the vice-president of conspiring with terrorists, he was quietly removed from the White House and tucked in a sanitarium, leaving everyone to think he’d died. He’s ex-CIA. If anyone is capable of kidnapping your sister—”
“She’s in here!” a male voice shouted from down the hall.
Since I was the only she in the vicinity, I had a vested interest in that shout.
I was desperate to hear all about Graham, but EG was my focus. I didn’t know whether to break Johnson’s arm right now and escape, or use him as a shield if someone was after me.
Sean had apparently seen no threat in my lawyer’s attention, but with the shout outside, he placed himself between me and any sign of attack from outside. Brave man. I was more dangerous than any attacker, and Sean turned his back on me. Brave, but foolish. Wrapping my fingers around Johnson’s wrist and squeezing a painful pressure point, I nearly broke a bone until he released me with a cry of pain.
I started to shove past him when EG burst through the door.
Dressed in her school clothes, tear-stained but unharmed, she scoped out the room and dashed directly toward me. With more joy than if I’d been given the mansion and the millions, I crouched down and hugged her harder than I’d ever hugged anyone. Her small body felt frail and warm and good in my arms. Unexpected moisture pooled in my eyes.
Nick and the senator raced in on her heels—followed by the senator’s impeccably coiffed wife in mid-harangue. “I swear, Euell, if you’d just confide in me occasionally, we wouldn’t have to go through this every time one of your peccadilloes—” Apparently realizing a reporter was in the room, Marjorie clammed up and forced a brittle smile.
I was so thrilled to have EG back that I almost forgot Johnson and his cohorts. While I hugged EG, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
I looked up to see Johnson ignoring us but scanning the room. I caught the direction of his look and saw Pao easing toward the hidden exit. I didn’t have time to ask questions. “Pao.” I shouted, pointing at the departing businessman.
Since Pao sounds exactly like Pow, several people gave me odd stares, but Nick caught the implication and sprinted across the room without question.
I, unfortunately, didn’t have a chance to watch the flashy pyrotechnics when Nick caught him. A cold barrel of steel suddenly rubbed against my spine from beneath the tablecloth.
“If you’d simply waited instead of stirring up trouble just like the old man, we would be on the way to the airport now, Miss Devlin.”
I do not react well to terror. Like a possum, my first instinct was to fall flat and play dead. Barring that, I get physical. With EG in my arms, falling flat was out of the question.
The crowd outside in the reception hall burst into thunderous applause, presumably at the candidate’s appearance. The gun barrel shoved at my spine, urging me into action.
“Be sensible, and I’ll fix it so no one gets hurt. Stand up slowly and start moving for the door,” my invisible assailant said under cover of the distraction.
Sensible did not begin to cover my rage.
Instead of standing as prompted, I pitched EG at Sean who nearly fell backward catching her. In the same motion, I rolled to one side and lashed under the table with my spiked boot. Good thing I was wearing excellent underwear because my mini rode straight up to my hip. My purse with all my valuables flew across the room with EG.
Since I couldn’t see beneath the tablecloth to aim my kick, I could only aim for where I’d last felt the gun. From the crunch of bone, I assumed I’d hit my assailant’s wrist. The gun roared. Over the applause of the crowd in the other room, Tex’s wife screamed.
Damn. The idiot had the safety off, and the gun hadn’t flown out of his hand like in the movies. I prayed no one had been hit by the stray shot as I scrambled for a better position.
Sean was hauling ass toward the door, carrying EG with him. I don’t know where Johnson went. Maybe he was gunshy.
I heard a muffled commotion in Pao’s last known location that involved fists and grunts, but my attention was fixed on the long library table. In my estimation it would be too heavy to lift even if the frozen dickheads near the computer had bothered to come forward to help me, which they didn’t. The gun and the villain had disappeared beneath the cloth, and I truly didn’t want to crawl under there after them.
While I studied the table, Tex did his fatherly duty and ran to grab EG from Sean. But knowing my propensity for violence, EG had already escaped and rolled under the heavy oak desk before Tex could reach her. We’d taught her well.
Sean was now shoving the hysterical Mrs. Tex out the door, and since no one else had the guts to approach me, that left Tex in the awkward position of the man between me and the exit. He either had to haul EG from under the desk and run, or help me, or personally go after the gunman under the table. Approaching a trapped animal is seldom wise.
Ignoring Tex’s predicament, I stayed down, grabbed the tablecloth, and whipped it off, sending humidors and books flying. A gray suit emerging from under the far end of the table stood up and spun with military swiftness. He might have blended right in with the rest of the crowd at that end of the room had he not been holding his wrist clutched to his chest. When the tablecloth unmasked him, he grabbed for his coat pocket.
Hagan. And he still had the gun. Any kidnapper would have had to smuggle EG in here before the security was in place. He could have planted a gun then. Heck, he could be security.
I didn’t have time to castigate myself for not realizing that until now.
EG screamed as she caught the problem before I did—Tex was the only man standing between me and a bullet.
It wasn’t fair to have her daddy rescue her only to watch him die. Instead of going into action mode, I froze like an oppossum right where I was on the floor. Nodding approval, Hagan grabbed Tex’s arm and hauled it behind his back, lodging the gun at his back.
“Get up, slut, and nobody gets hurt.”
Somebody watched way too many action movies, I thought, scanning the room as I grabbed the back of the couch and reluctantly pulled myself up. Looked like I was the only slut in here. Even the senator’s wife had gone quiet out in the hall.
“If it was me you wanted, you should have asked,” I said, adjusting my skirt and pretending to have difficulty standing. “You didn’t have to frighten a kid like that.”
“You’re a hard person to pin down, and the kid wasn’t,” Hagan replied without remorse.
Admittedly, I’d not stayed in place today. And even if I had stayed at my computer, he wouldn’t have been able to get at me through Graham’s security. I’d left EG vulnerable.
Sean was out in the hall with Mrs. Tex. Nick had Pao’s Cambodian neck bent backward so he couldn’t move, but he was looking at Hagan as if he’d rip out his throat if he only had two more arms. Good old Nick. He
was too far away to help me. All the politicos were easing as far from the scene as they could without walking through walls. That left me and Tex and Hagan.
They all waited to see what I would do. I hated being the center of attention.
“Were you the one who sent poisoned envelopes to my grandfather?” I asked, trying to brush myself off with a hand shaking so badly that I wanted to punch something just to stop it.
“Max was becoming a nuisance.” Keeping Tex’s arm behind his back, he pushed him toward me. “But all I did was provide an asshole with the motivation and the means. Brashton did the dirty work. The government pays me to learn these things.” He looked over his shoulder at his frozen audience. “Someone get word to the schizoid that I have his little whore as insurance. If I’m going down for this one, I want protection.”
Verifying my suspicions, I didn’t turn my head to look at Nick. Our grandfather had been murdered by Reggie, incited by Hagan. Reggie would have done it for the money. Hagan did it because of Mindy’s report. But to save whose hide? He was a flunky. I couldn’t imagine him doing it on his own. Someone in the cartel had to have ordered Max and Mindy eliminated.
Sweat beaded Hagan’s waxen brow. I figured I’d cracked a bone in his wrist with my kick, but he was holding the gun steady enough to blow Tex away. Now that I’d got over the first blur of adrenaline, I could think a little straighter. Hagan didn’t want EG or Tex, he wanted me—to get at Graham. He must have known Graham had taken up Max’s investigation. Tex’s credibility had been destroyed by being made a scapegoat for Mindy’s murder.
As expected, Hagan shoved Tex away when he was close enough to grab my arm. Just because I had my thinking cap on didn’t mean I wouldn’t react to being grabbed, but I restrained my instincts for a change. There were too many people who could get hurt by flying guns. “Why would anyone kill Max?” I demanded, dragging my heels and searching for escape as Hagan’s fingers dug into my skin.
“Why does one flatten gnats?” Holding my elbow, he dragged me toward the door with the gun in his injured hand swinging back and forth to warn off the sheep staring at us.
“Was Mindy a gnat too?” I did my stumbling best not to move quickly.
“A fat mosquito,” he snarled. “One who couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
He’d had Mindy and Max squashed because of textbooks? I couldn’t think of another damned thing to say after that.
Apparently into drama, Hagan managed the conversation without me. “I took care of your bosses,” he told his stunned audience. “Now it’s time for them to take care of me.”
Bosses? All the men I’d invited in here were involved? Or the senators who paid the aides, at least. I didn’t have time to process it. Hagan was still dragging me toward the exit. Concentrating hard, I didn’t look at Sean as we passed.
“Keep this quiet, and we’ll all live happily ever after,” Hagan promised in a voice that sounded assured, not scared. “I want an attache case filled with hundred dollar bills waiting for me at Reagan. If Miss Devlin did as asked and brought her passport, I’ll do everyone a favor and take her with me.”
Maybe if I was more cool at this spy game I’d have been assessing the reactions of the various officials around the room, looking for the guilty parties to whom he was talking, but I was too busy scheming ways to save my neck. In a couple of moves I could have flung Hagan over my shoulder and smack into the bookshelves, but he still held a gun. I didn’t have a lot of experience with guns. I’d trained in the martial arts for anger management and exercise, not assault. I didn’t want flying bullets to hit EG or Nick. Beyond that, as far as I was aware, everyone else in the room could be involved with Hagan and could go down with him.
To my immense relief, Nick whistled sharply. That was an old signal we’d worked up once in Istanbul. The whistle meant he was okay and about to start a distraction.
Hagan was so sure of himself that he’d only grabbed me by my upper arm like some old time movie bully hauling the weak, screaming heroine around. If he was ex-military, he hadn’t dealt with too many female commandoes in his line of work. I didn’t tense but stumbled weakly so Hagan had to pull up hard on my arm.
Without further warning than the whistle, Nick tossed Pao in a neat backflip at the group of suits, scattering them. My tablecloth trick had littered the floor with cigars and candles, and several of the less fleet of foot did somersaults and bellyflops in their haste to escape a flying Pao. I might have been amused at another time. Right now, I had two seconds to act.
To the accompaniment of crashing bodies in the library and the roar of applause in the reception hall as Paul Rose approached the podium, I sliced downward on Hagan’s already injured gun arm with the side of my free hand—the one that could break two boards. He howled and dropped the gun. Even though he kept his grip on my arm, that was worse than letting me go. I shifted my feet to brace my stance, grabbed his coat collar, twisted my captured arm, and flung him head first into the library table.
A big man, he flew solidly, hitting his head on the solid oak with a lot of force behind the crash.
Only then did we notice the scream of sirens in the drive.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The bad guys are caught with their cigars down.
The rest of the party was a bit of a blur. Gray suits stumbled to their feet amid crushed cigars to surround Pao, although they probably didn’t know why except that he was down. If he was Hagan’s partner in crime, he was maintaining his Oriental inscrutability.
More intelligently, Nick grabbed the gun, sat on Hagan, and held the barrel under his captive’s chin. If Hagan had any inkling that Nick was gay, he’d probably pass out at this compromising position.
Tex performed his best Texas drawl trying to reach his hysterical wife.
Blackwell Johnson straightened his tie and slipped out. I figured I knew where to find him when I wanted him. I had so many questions, my brain froze.
Blue suits burst into the room and avoided Keystone Kops antics on the rolling cigars by the simple expedient of deliberately mashing them into the expensive carpet with their polished clodhoppers.
Needing a moment of sanity, I crawled under the desk to hold EG who was nearly as hysterical as Marjorie, except EG was shaking with laughter, crying, and demanding to learn the chopping trick. She’s a great kid, and I was proud of her.
Sean had apparently abandoned Mrs. Tex, seen me with EG, and gone to interrogate Pao before the cops interfered. Now, he tried to shove his way back to us—I hoped with answers to all my questions—but security and the men in black followed the cops in, and the crowd from the reception spilled into the halls and library, blocking Sean’s progress. Paul Rose would be a little ticked at the distraction from his no doubt ground-breaking speech promoting flags and apple pie.
I was tempted to imitate Hagan’s trick. The library table was unmasked, but we could cower in the cubbyhole beneath the desk until the room cleared. Or someone remembered us. I feared the latter was more likely.
“If this were a really good movie, we’d find a trapdoor in here,” I muttered.
“Yeah, but in the movies, you’d miraculously retrieve your purse without crawling under people’s feet,” EG thoughtfully pointed out.
I hated to lose that hacker program, especially if any of the men in black were FBI or whatever they called themselves these days. I had sacrificed my invisibility this evening, and with a passport like mine, I could easily become a Homeland Security target.
I peered around the corner of the desk just as a black-suited arm reached down to recover the elegant little bag Nick had picked out for me. The diamond cufflink winking on the white cuff beneath the black caught my attention. How many FBI agents wore diamond cufflinks?
Suddenly eager to see the owner of that arm, I scooted out from our hiding place. And ran headfirst into Sean’s knees.
He wasn’t wearing cufflinks and didn’t have my bag. Using his knee to pull myself up, I didn’t bother admi
ring his crotch in my haste to see the diamond man. Sean grabbed my elbow and hauled me upright. I strained to see past his wide shoulder but I was too short. Elbowing him out of my way, ignoring his oof at the sharpness of my elbow, I sought the purse thief.
The room strained at its plaster seams with men in black and blue and gray, mixed with a few women in sparkly gowns. No diamond cufflinks winked back at me. The thief had taken my purse, my hacker program, and my passport, damn him.
“I’ve got a car,” Sean said, gripping my arm with less than gentleness, probably to keep me from elbowing him again since I was frantically trying to escape. “Let’s get out of here.”
Getting out of there sounded like an excellent idea, but I wasn’t ready to go with him. I had a driving need to see Diamond Man. “Why, so you can pump me first? Did you get anything out of Pao?”
“A few Cambodian curses. Let the legals work out his financial shenanigans. Homeland Security knows about his website. They’ll check him out. We need to get you out first.”
Helping EG from under the desk, I pushed her toward the door, searching for Nick. Just as I caught his eye in the doorway, a familiar formidable figure in boiled shirt stepped in front of us.
“If you’ll come this way,” Mallard said formally, “I believe we can leave while the senator’s wife is still shrieking.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Although Mallard’s bulk nearly blocked us from view and Sean added to the barrier, there were far too many officials in here for us to disappear into the woodwork. Heads were already turning our way now that we’d departed our hiding place. I felt naked without my purse and passport.
Holding on to EG, I eased along in front of Mallard, following Nick’s lead and aiming for the exit. Sean shouted “Wait!” as the crowd closed in around us, but I didn’t linger. I didn’t check to see how Mallard cut him off either. All I saw was the door out, partially blocked by curiosity seekers being pushed back by the men in blue.
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